Margaret moved toward him, one trembling hand stretched out to touch his arm. He flinched away. "Richard, it was not like that," she said. "Please let me explain."

"Your behavior needs no explanation, ma'am," he said. "It is all too painfully obvious. I might as well wear a motley suit and bells! I certainly made a ludicrous picture, did I not, creeping out of the house in disguise to meet my own wife, bedding her in a friend's house, parting before dawn? You should be an actress, my dear. That final parting scene was most affecting. You made me cry, did you know that? And did you cry with laughter on the way home?"

Margaret had her face hidden behind her hands. Her shoulders were shaking. "Let me explain," she sobbed.

"I loved you, Meg," he said harshly. "I thought you were perfection. I thought myself unworthy of you."

She looked up at him with huge, tear-filled eyes.

"And all the time you were a scheming little slut," he sneered. "Was it not exciting enough to ask your husband to give you pleasure in your marriage bed? Did you have to get your thrills by pretending to have a grand and passionate affair?" His eyes narrowed. "Would you be excited if I took you now, angel, when you know that I hate and despise you as much as you did me?"

Margaret backed away from him until her back was against a wall. She had one hand pressed to her mouth to try to muffle her convulsive sobs.

He stopped a short distance away from her, the sneer still on his face. "Relax, angel," he said soothingly. "I did not come here to bed you. I came to beat you."

Margaret shook her head.

"I will not tolerate a wife whom I cannot trust," he said, his eyes narrowed again, the sneer gone.

They stood and stared at each other for timeless moments.

Margaret took her hand away from her mouth. Her face had hardened, Brampton noticed.

"If you are going to beat me, Richard," she said, her eyes on his chin, "you had better make sure that you hurt only me and not our child."

He looked searchingly at her. "You cannot bluff your way out of this, my dear."

She looked directly into his eyes, her own suddenly blazing. "You are going to beat me," she said with scorn. "What a wronged and righteous husband you are, my lord." She pushed herself away from the wall and brushed past him. In his surprise, he let her go.

"You are so indignant because I kept up a deception and met you in the way I did?" she said, turning and glaring at him. "I am a slut, my lord? Then what does that make you? At least I knew it was my own husband I was creeping away to meet. I have never been unfaithful to you, even for one moment, even in my thoughts. But you! You lied to me and stole away to meet a women you thought to be a stranger and made love to her. You were unfaithful to me, Richard. But that does not matter, does it? Men are permitted such lapses. You are a hypocrite, my lord. You live by a double standard."

"Meg," Brampton said, trying to stop this angry tirade, which he could not quite believe was coming from his wife.

"No, I have been quiet too long," she said, her eyes flashing at him. "Have I made a fool of you, my lord? Maybe I could be forgiven, even if that had been my intention. Could anything be more humiliating than the way you have treated me? I knew you made a marriage of convenience with me. I did not expect love. But you did not show any feeling for me at all. On our wedding night, you knew I was an innocent, you must have known that I was frightened. And yet you just-you just used me. It was horrible, my lord, humiliating. I felt like a thing!"

"Meg," he said, moving toward her and reaching out his hands. "Please! I never meant-"

"Well, now you can go ahead and beat me," she said with bitter defiance. "I don't care anymore. Are you going to use your bare hands, my lord, or do you have to return to your room for your whip? If your child survives, Richard, I shall have done my duty, at least. And that is all you ever wanted of me, is it not?"

"Meg, my dear," he begged, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders, "please stop this. Stop hurting yourself." His eyes, she noticed in some surprise, were brimming with tears. One spilled over and rolled down his cheek as she watched. Without thinking, she reached out a hand and brushed it away.

"Richard," she whispered.

They stared at each other, eyes wide with tears. Brampton pulled her against him and held her head against his shoulder.

"Meg, my sweet," he whispered against her hair, "have I wronged you so much? I had no idea you felt so strongly, my love."

"No, most people do not," she mumbled into his shirt.

He kissed her temple gently; she turned her head until their lips met.

"Richard, love me, please love me," she begged against his mouth.

And then she could say no more. His mouth opened over her to block out more words and his tongue was plunging deeply over hers. He crushed her body against his. Heat rose between them as her arms went up to twine around his neck.

"Meg, my little angel," he groaned, hot lips against her neck and her throat, hands twining in her thick hair.

And then he was pulling at her nightgown, tearing off some buttons in his haste to remove it. Margaret gasped and came against his length again, naked this time. He bent and lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He leaned over her, drinking in the sight of her, from her passion-filled eyes and parted lips, over the perfect breasts and tiny waist, wrapped in her own hair, over the slightly rounded stomach and soft thighs, down to her tiny feet.

"God, you are so beautiful," he said unsteadily, standing to remove his own clothes.

Margaret shivered at the sight of his hard-muscled body and at the touch of his hands when he joined her on the bed, gentle at first, but seeking out unerringly the places that would make her body hum with passion. He took her hand in his, watching her through half-closed lids, and placed it against his chest. And for the first time, she began a slow and shy exploration of his body, gradually emboldened by his gasps of desire.

Thoroughly aroused by her touch, he rose up and toppled her onto her back and came down hard on top of her. Control snapped for the moment, he crashed into her, calling her name and continuing to caress her with his hands.

Margaret too cried out and arched her hips upward in order to receive him more deeply. He moved firm hands to her shoulders-a familiar gesture-as he taught her his rhythm. But there was nothing purely businesslike about this lovemaking. He began with slow, shallow strokes that teased her hips into grinding rhythmically into his, which had her panting and pleading for more.

The depth and the tempo of his thrusts increased gradually to answer her need. When he finally felt her muscles tighten and strain against him in mute appeal for release, Brampton lifted his head and gazed down at her until she opened her eyes.

"This is all for you, Meg, my wife," he said, and he thrust and held deep inside her until he felt her shudder into release and saw a look of surprise and wonder glaze her eyes. He withdrew and thrust once more, his face in the hollow of her neck, and descended with her into a world of total peace.

They clung together damply while their hearts slowed to normal beat, and then Brampton rolled to one side of her, his arms still circling her warm little body. They lay with eyes closed for several minutes.

"Tell me now, Meg," he said finally, brushing her lips with his and tightening his hold on her shoulder. "Tell me about it, my little angel."

"I loved you," she said. "I loved you so much for six years. When I used to see you and you did not notice me, I thought I could not bear it. But when I did not see you, it was even worse. And when you came to Papa and asked me to marry you. I told myself that you did not love me, that you just needed a wife and an heir. I told myself and told myself, but it still broke my heart, Richard, when I knew for certain."

He held her very close and laid his cheek on her head while her hair cascaded over his arms.

"And then I couldn't stand it anymore and I told Charlotte. And she persuaded me to dress up again as I had when we first met. I knew it was madness, Richard, but I just once wanted to see you look at me as you did when I was eighteen. Just once I wanted to know that you wanted me."

"Meg, my sweet love, why did you not just tell me?" he asked.

"How could I, my lord? I might have ended up looking very foolish, and embarrassing both myself and you."

"Oh, my little darling!"

"And then, after that first time, I couldn't stop," she said. "I wanted you so badly, Richard. You are a man. You could turn to a woman whenever you wanted. But I am a woman. I lived with dreams for six years and then I lived with disappointment. I did not mean to make you feel foolish, my lord, indeed I did not. I came to you only because I wanted you and needed you. And when you said good-bye, Richard, it was as painful for me as it was for you. I thought I would never know you in that way again." She buried her face against his shoulder.

"Meg, will you forgive me?" he whispered into her hair.

One arm crept around his neck and he had his answer.

"Is it true about the baby, little one?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

Suddenly Brampton leapt out of the bed and reached down to lift her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked against his neck.

"I am taking my wife to my bed," he said decisively. "And that is where she belongs every night and all night for the rest of our lives."